


"Hungry Hearts"

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, artwork by Romeokijai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5508032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For  IceonFire7, who requested a Blackout Christmas fic, young love(not the age, the feelings) a tiny bit of angst if necessary, platonic Miles and a happy ending.  Ice, this may be the shortest offering, at least so far, but I hope you love it as much as I do.  Merry Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Hungry Hearts"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IceonFire7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceonFire7/gifts).



> Many thanks to Romeokijai, who edited this and told me to fix the ending. I happened to like the ending, but took her advice and words and added a bit on and it’s a much better story because of it.
> 
> This was inspired by the story “You’ll hear me Howling” by JaqofSpades, the song “Hungry Hearts,” by Bruce Springsteen and by this incredibly lovely quote that tied everything together in my head.
> 
> “I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it - to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just Once.
> 
> ~Haruki Murakami~

 

It was Christmas Eve, the first big holiday since the official end to the war against the Patriots, and Gene had invited the entire town to his house for an impromptu party.

 

People, wrapped up in warm blankets, sat around the bonfire, chatting. Others stood, visiting near the food-laden tables while some danced to music from the band set up under the trees.

 

Children ran through the field next to the house, their gleeful shouts heard over the music as they chased fireflies and each other.

 

Teenagers were out by the barn, the aroma of hand-rolled weed occasionally drifting up to the house.

 

People her age were practically non-existent. “Casualties of the war,” everyone said, shaking their heads sadly.

 

On the back porch, Charlie stood, watching and waiting for something she couldn’t put a name to as she sipped on a jar of the moonshine that flowed like water through the crowd. In two days, she, Bass, Miles and her mother would move to Austin. In Austin there were more jobs, more housing, more people, just...more.

 

Miles and Bass had already accepted jobs working under Blanchard, the promise of a fresh start too tempting to pass up.  

 

She watched as her mother, settled between Miles legs, tilted her head to laugh at something he’d said. Looking away, Charlie took a drink of her moonshine to smother a sigh. Maybe it was the living arrangements that had her feeling this way. They’d been packed into her grandpa’s house like sardines for the last two months with little privacy. Miles and Rachel, Aaron and Priscilla and Gene, all had their own rooms, leaving her and Bass to share either the couch or the attic.  

 

WIth little more than a shared look, they had settled on the attic, cleaning out a space large enough for the two of them to share, easily accepting the other as their temporary bunkmate.

 

Tilting her head against a post, she smiled as Priscilla got Aaron on his feet, dragging him into the midst of dancers as the band played a fast-paced song.

 

So distracted by her restless thoughts, she squeaked when someone approached from behind, a hand grabbing at her hip, causing her to jump. “Goddamnit, Bass,” she cursed, looking around to see if anyone was watching.

 

“A little jumpy tonight, Charlotte?”

 

“Just distracted.”

 

“It’s a nice party,” he commented, walking around her to lean against the railing. “Good food, decent music. So, why are you skulking about up here in the shadows?”

 

Charlie lifted a brow as he slipped the jar from her hand and took a drink while waiting for her answer.

 

She propped herself up on the railing, facing him and the party. “I could ask you the same thing.”

 

Bass chuckled, throwing a glance out towards the yard. “Yes, I suppose you could.”

 

They fell quiet, sharing the jar back and forth as Charlie watched the party and Bass watched her.

 

When the band began playing a slow song, Charlie watched wistfully as the couples came together, wrapping themselves around one another as they swayed to the music. Even her mother and Miles joined in.

 

“Dance with me?” Bass asked, holding out his hand.

 

Charlie lifted a brow. “Excuse me?”

 

Bass pushed off the railing with a roll of his eyes. “Come dance with me, Charlotte.”

 

“B-but I don’t know how,” Charlie stammered but still found herself taking his hand.

 

Bass led her out to where the other couples swayed in the firelight, Miles watching their every move. “There’s not much to it. Just do what everyone else is doing.”

 

Pulling her close, Bass wrapped an arm around her waist as Charlie brought a hand up to rest on his shoulder. Taking her other hand in his, he began moving slowly to the music, letting Charlie get comfortable with his movements. It wasn’t long before she had relaxed against him, her forehead resting against his jaw

 

Pulling their joined hands up close to his chest, his thumb caressed her callused palm. “Their hearts are hungry,” he murmured so quietly next to her ear she almost didn’t catch it.

 

She moved her head so slightly that no one else but Bass or Miles would pick up on it, the only indication that she was listening.

 

“That eye-fuck between Rachel and Miles that had you looking away earlier? It’s because their hearts are hungry, just like every other couple out here. Just look at your Grandpa and Stella Gibbons, for example. He’s still not over Marion, probably won’t ever be, but his heart’s still hungry.”

 

The words that he was whispering in her ear settled heavily in her gut as her fingers tightened on his shoulder. “And what about your heart?” She whispered, her lips brushing his jaw as she tilted her mouth towards his ear. “Is it hungry?”

 

“Fucking starving. Just like yours,” he growled, pulling her closer. “Everybody wants a home and family, Charlie. Someone and someplace to call their own.”

 

Bass cupped her cheek gently. “Nobody wants to be alone.”

 

Taking a step back, he kept his hand on her cheek as he jerked his head in the crowd’s direction, “They all have someone to feed their hunger. You should too.”  

 

Sliding a thumb across her cheekbone, he dropped his hand and without another word, headed towards the house.

 

She could still feel the heat of his touch as she raised a hand to her cheek.

 

Lifting her head as the music changed tempo, her eyes landed on Miles, who was standing on the patch of grass they were calling a dance floor. Their eyes locked, a thousand things being communicated between uncle and niece, before Rachel tumbled over, clutching at his arm.

 

With the same hunger in his eyes as earlier, Miles looked down at her mother before flicking his eyes to the house and then back to her. Charlie watched as he looked at the ground, shuffling his feet, before raising his head to make two hand symbols, leaving her gaping in surprise at his message. With a decisive nod, he wrapped his arm around Rachel's shoulders, disappearing into the crowd.

 

Grabbing a mason jar, Charlie headed toward the house.  

 

Making her way up the narrow staircase to the attic, she found the door open, as they always left it; but tonight, as she entered, she shut it behind her and then fastened  the lock.

 

Bass watched as she made her way to where he was lying, shirtless and barefoot on their shared bed, offering him the jar. Taking it from her, he set it on the floor beside him, enthralled as she began to strip in the dim lamplight.

 

Swallowing thickly, his eyes traveled the length of her body and back up to her eyes. “What are you doing, Charlotte?”

 

Looking towards the window, Charlie listened to the sound of muted voices. “You were right, Bass. I’m hungry.”

 

Waiting until she met his eyes, he finally spoke. “Are you sure about that? What about Miles? Your Mom?”

 

“Miles and my mom are gluttons. It’s you and I who are starving.”

 

Pushing to his feet, Bass reached out and ran a hand up and down her bare arm, his thumb skimming the curve of her breast. “You realize that once I have a taste, I won’t ever want anyone else?”

 

He watched as Charlie's eyes flew up to meet his, uncertainty in her voice as she whispered, “Are you sure?”

 

“Positive,” he breathed, pulling her up against his chest, reveling in the feel of her bare breasts pressed against him. “I’ve wanted you for for so long, I’m going to need forever to get my fill. Maybe even longer than that,” he promised as their lips met, giving in to the urge to gorge themselves.

  
Hungry hearts devouring one another in a feast they’d been denied for far too long.


End file.
